


we'll clean it up together

by nevermindthewind



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy tells Jake her Me Too story, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, and Jake comforts her like the wonderful husband that he is, me too movement, tw: descriptions of sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 14:04:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16160408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermindthewind/pseuds/nevermindthewind
Summary: Jake gets assigned to work with a person from Amy's past on a case. A person Amy never thought she'd see again.





	we'll clean it up together

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY HI. 
> 
> A while back Dan Goor mentioned they were interested in writing an episode for season six that dives into the Me Too movement. As soon as I heard that I began hoping they'd give that story line to Amy, as we've yet to see her get a serious story line like that. So I began thinking about how I could write it in fic form, and that's how this fic was brought to life. This is SO different than anything I've written but I'm really proud of it, and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> MAJOR shout out to Emma (@fourdrinkamy) Lindsay (@santiagoswagger) and Johanna (@amyscascadingtabs) for the help and for listening to me yell about this fic. I adore you all so freaking much.
> 
> This story is fictional, and any similarities to real life experiences is completely unintentional. While I am fortunate enough to have never been in Amy's situation, I have been affected by sexual assault and can relate to Jake in many ways. This is why I chose to write from Jake's perspective.
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS. The last thing I want is for anyone to get triggered or hurt.
> 
> Title from Just and Just As by Penny and Sparrow.
> 
> <3

Jake is just returning from lunch and getting back into his latest case when he hears Terry bark out his name from the briefing room doorway. Mentally preparing himself to be reprimanded for some paperwork mishap, he swivels in his chair to face the Sarge.

 

“What’s up, Sarge? Need help deciphering my beautiful handwriting again?” he jokes. “Remember, most of the h’s are actually just two t’s who wanted to hold hands.”

 

“Not this time, Jake,” Terry says, a more professional tone to his voice. “Can I see you for a second?” 

 

“Sure.” Jake hops up from his desk and makes his way across the bullpen, shooting Rosa a confused glance as he passes her desk. Why is Sarge acting so serious? Is he assigning him a high-profile case? Did a famous Chris  _ finally _ witness a crime in their precinct? Please let it be Chris Pine. Or Hemsworth. Hell, he’d take any of the Chris’ at this point.

 

However when he steps into the briefing room, it’s not a famous Chris, or even a famous non-Chris, but a very not-famous officer. Lame.

 

“Detective Peralta, this is Detective Garfield,” Terry says as soon as he shuts the door. 

 

“Call me Rob. Heard a lot of great things from your Sergeant here.” Garfield reaches out his hand. He’s tall, definitely over six feet, and quite honestly attractive enough to be a famous Chris if he wanted to be. It’s in his eyes, Jake thinks. They’re piercing blue, contrasting against his dark hair and olive skin. 

 

“Thanks,” he says, shaking Garfield’s hand. His grip is strong; Amy would totally be impressed. Jake turns to look back at the Sarge. “What’s going on?”

 

“We think the armed robbery you’ve been working on is connected to a string of robberies happening over in the 2-9,” Terry explains.  

 

“Similar items stolen, same shoe prints at the scene, and we have a witness who described a man who looks almost identical to your suspect,” adds Garfield, handing Jake a file. “Here’s all the information we gathered.”

 

“You’ll be working with Garfield on the case,” says Terry. “And I want this to be your top priority. The new captain wants this solved fast. So do I.”

 

“Got it, Sarge.” Jake gives Terry a swift nod before turning back to the other detective. “Let’s get started.”

 

They spend most of the afternoon going over each other’s case files, tracking the suspect’s possible locations, and finding any patterns that are consistent throughout each robbery. It’s what Jake does best; solving puzzles and looking good doing it. Plus it helps that Garfield is an excellent cop. By the end of the day they’ve made good progress, with plans to scout out the possible suspect’s apartment building the following morning. 

 

“So we’ll meet at the precinct tomorrow at ten?” Jake affirms as finishes copying his notes. 

 

Garfield nods, flashing Jake a confident grin as he slides on his jacket. “Sounds good, man. I’ll see you then.” 

 

“Have a good night.” 

 

“You, too.”

 

Garfield turns and exits the briefing room, leaving Jake to clean up his disaster of a workspace.  It doesn’t take him long, though. Amy taught him how to tidy up quite efficiently when they started living together, and even more since they’ve been married. Is it weird he can’t wait to tell her how he used a color coding system today? Probably.  But he loves his wife too damn much to really care.

 

Speaking of said wonderful wife, he’s supposed to be meeting her in the bullpen in approximately thirty seconds. 

 

He’s already thinking of possible dinner suggestions as he waltzes through the briefing room doors. It’s no surprise for Jake to see Amy waiting for him in the chair beside his desk. She’ll probably be early to her own funeral -- that’s definitely the saying. Look it up. However what  _ is  _ surprising is the blank stare and lack of color in her normally rosy cheeks. She’s twirling a piece of hair in between her fingers while one leg shakes so fast Jake’s surprised it’s not just one giant blue blur. 

 

What on earth could have happened in the last few hours for Amy to reach a 0.75 on the Santiago Panic Scale?!

 

“Babe?” he asks timidly as he approaches her and taps her shoulder. Amy jumps so high you’d have thought Jake had yelled in her ear. “Whoa Ames, it’s okay. It’s just me.”

 

Amy turns, relief flooding her face as she registers that it is, in fact, Jake behind her.

 

“Oh hey. Sorry. I -- I didn’t hear you,” she says weakly. A tiny smile flickers across her face. A smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

 

“Clearly,” Jake replies. He cocks his head. “Everything okay?”

 

Amy clears her throat and gives a slight flick of the head before standing up, as if trying to rid her mind of whatever she was thinking of before. “Oh yeah, just got distracted. Thinking about work. Sergeant-y things, you know. Anyway, you ready?”

 

“Yeah, sure…” Jake trails off, still wary of his wife’s present expression, or lack thereof. “You sure you’re --”

 

“I’m fine, Jake,” Amy snaps, cutting him off. She glares up at him as she grabs her bag. In that one look alone Jake can see that despite what Amy says, she is definitely not fine. Something’s up. But he can also see it’s probably best not to argue with her right now. “Let’s just go, okay?”

 

“Okay,” he says. He slings his own bag over his shoulder before reaching out his hand for Amy to hold. “Let’s go.”

 

For a moment Amy just stares at his hand, her eyes flicking from his hand to his face. She seems...stuck. 

 

God, he should have just left her alone. He knows when she’s stressed she needs her space, but of course he had to go and try to force it out of her. Now she doesn’t even want to hold his hand.

 

“Ames?” 

 

Her eyes flick back to his. Jake gives her a small, apologetic smile.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

It’s like a spell is broken and with that Amy,  _ his  _ Amy, seems to come back. She furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head -- more adamantly this time -- before taking his hand into hers.

 

“Oh no, Jake.  _ I’m  _ sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. You were just being nice. It’s not your fault I had a crappy day. ” She sighs. “I really am sorry.”

 

Jake simply squeezes her hand. “It’s okay. How’s Chinese sound for dinner?”

 

Amy squeezes back. “Sounds perfect.”

 

\--

 

The drive home is uneventful, albeit a little quieter than usual. Jake focuses on the road the best he can. Occasionally, though, he steals a glance over to Amy.  She’s on edge, her leg still thumping as if separate from the rest of her body. However, having learned from his past mistakes Jake chooses to ignore this little detail. Instead he turns on the radio, letting the likes of Taylor and Selena do the majority of the talking. Well, singing. You get it.

 

It’s not till they’re back in the apartment, curled up on the couch in sweatpants and matching hoodies and munching on takeout that they actually begin to talk.

 

“So how was the rest of your day?” Amy asks through a mouthful of rice. Her shoulders are back down to their usual height, although her face is still a little pale for Jake’s liking. But again, Jake’s decided to pick his battles for the night.

 

“Pretty good,” he replies. “Spent the afternoon working that robbery I was telling you about. Then a cop from the 2-9 came and Terry assigned me to work with him since it seems like our suspect has also been robbing pawn shops over in their neck of the woods. Oh! And I color coded my notes by subject! It helped so much, babe. You were right. Anyway, by the end of the day Garfield and I --”

 

A loud clatter of metal on glass causes Jake to snap his head up from his takeout box. 

 

Amy’s fork is on the coffee table, the remaining rice and sauce scattered across the surface. But instead of scrambling to clean it up, Amy’s just staring at him. What little color that had returned drains away, her eyes bulging.

 

“G-Garfield?” she asks, her voice shaking. “Rob Garfield?”

 

“Mmhm,” Jake replies slowly. He’s still so confused. 

 

“That’s why he was there,” she whispers to herself. Her right hand instantly begins fiddling with a strand of hair. 

 

“Why? You know him?” asks Jake. Amy lets out a hollow laugh before picking the fallen fork up off the table.

 

“Yeah, I know him.” She stabs a piece of broccoli. “We, uh, were in the academy together.”

 

“Oh!” Jake exclaims. He furrows his eyebrows. “I take it you two weren’t best buddies then?” 

 

Another laugh, this one more like a bark. It didn’t sound like Amy at all. “No, we weren’t close.”

 

Jake likes to think he knows his wife pretty well. Which means he knows there could be only two reasons why Amy dislikes this guy so much; either they dated or he was her main competition in the academy. His bet is on the former. So even though there’s a part of him that knows he shouldn’t, he can’t help himself from asking her about it.

 

“Did something happen between you two?” he blurts out. “You know, romantic stylez?”

 

Amy’s eyes widen.

 

“It’s okay,” Jake backtracks, sensing he asked the wrong thing. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. I just figured --”

 

“Oh my god, no. No. I did not date... _ him _ .” Amy shudders. Her lips are pursed in the thinnest line as she tosses her fork into her takeout box and closes it. She slides her remaining food towards Jake. “You have the rest. I’m not hungry.”

 

“You sure?” Jake asks, raising his eyebrows. Amy  _ never  _ shares her leftovers, especially crab rangoons. 

 

Amy shakes her head as she pops up from the couch. “Yeah. I don’t want them. I think -- I think I’m gonna go lay down in bed. Alone,” she adds pointedly. 

 

“Hey wait, Ames. Don’t go. I shouldn’t have assumed anything. Don’t let my being an idiot ruin our night,” he practically begs. They’ve barely gotten to talk all day.

 

“Jake.” Her gaze softens as she looks down at him. There are dark circles under her eyes that weren’t there a few hours ago. “I need to be alone.”

 

So Jake watches her go, keeping his mouth shut and fighting every instinct in his body telling him to follow her. He knows Amy needs her distance, and that she’ll talk to him about it when she’s ready. But Jake’s never been known for his patience. He wants to talk about it  _ now _ , wants to know what’s bothering her so they can talk about it and go back to making stupid sex jokes and watching cheesy youtube videos like they normally do in the evenings. 

 

He just wants Amy to be happy.

 

\--

 

Two episodes of Love It or List It later, Jake’s sprawled across the couch when his phone lights up beside him. 

 

_ From: Amy Santiago _

_ 8:37pm _

 

**Can you come in here?**

 

Jake can’t help but smile to himself as he rolls off the couch. See, he knew she’d come to him when she was ready. He  _ does  _ know his wife. 

 

The door to their room is closed, so he knocks before entering. Amy’s in bed, lying on her side so she’s facing away from the door and him. 

 

“Hey babe,” he says softly, pausing in the doorway. “What’s up?”

 

Amy doesn’t turn around. She merely reaches out and pats his side of the bed. “Come here. Please.” She sighs. “I need to tell you something.”

 

Jake does as he’s told and makes his way around the bed. He crawls under the covers and lays so he’s facing Amy, using his left arm to support his head. Only then does he see the tear tracks and the nerves etched all over his wife’s face. Only then does he see that something is wrong.

 

There are moments where you know, you just  _ know _ your world is about to change forever. Where you get an indescribable feeling that life as you knew it will forever be altered by whatever is about to happen. And right now Jake  _ knows _ . 

 

“What’s going on?”

 

Amy turns to lay on her back. He can just make out her profile in the warm glow of the lamp beside her bed.

 

“There’s a reason why I get so claustrophobic,” she says, her eyes trained on the ceiling.

 

“Huh?” That’s  _ not  _ the answer Jake was expecting. 

 

“I mean, I didn’t one day randomly decide to be afraid of small spaces. They didn’t bother me when I was a kid. Actually, my favorite game was hide and seek. I was smaller than my brothers so I always hid in the tiniest spaces. I loved that. It made me feel safe.”

 

Jake tries to follow Amy’s logic, but truth be told he has no idea what she’s talking about. How does this relate to anything? But he lets it go. It’s gotta make sense eventually, right?

 

“So what happened?” he asks tentatively.

 

Amy squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep breath before opening them again. She still doesn’t look him in the eye.

 

“Rob Garfield happened.”

 

Jake’s stomach drops. He’s pretty sure there is someone gripping his heart and squeezing it as hard as they can. 

 

He’s been a cop long enough to know what that means.  _ Please _ let it not mean what he thinks it means.

 

Not Amy. 

 

Amy keeps talking.

 

“When we were in the academy, Rob was the poster child for the NYPD. Smart, strong, passionate about protecting people and keeping the city safe. And on top of it he had this... _ magnetic _ personality. When he walked in the room people noticed. They were drawn to him. I, on the other hand, was practically invisible. And that was the way I wanted it. I wasn’t there to make friends, I was there to learn. All I wanted was to be the best cop I could be. I wanted to be a captain.” 

 

The corner of her lips curls up before she continues.

 

“One day as I was getting ready to head home Rob came up to me. Told me he saw me during target practice and that he was impressed. I was totally taken by surprise. I had no idea Rob Garfield knew who I was, let alone he’d been watching me train. I thanked him, told him he’d done a great job, too. He smiled this gorgeous smile and thanked me back. Then he told me about this party he was hosting for his friends in the academy. ‘I’d love it if you came,’ he said. I remember thinking he had to be joking. I might have even told him that. But then he gave me the address and said he’d see me there.” Another nostalgic smile flashes across Amy’s face. “I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Rob Garfield picked  _ me _ .”

 

Even with his limited view of her face Jake can see Amy’s face harden. Her hands start fiddling with the edge of their comforter. 

 

Please, not Amy.

 

“The party was cramped and hot, filled with people I knew but had never talked to. I didn’t see Rob until later, after I’d had a few beers. He came up to me and we talked for what felt like hours. The entire time he always made sure my drink was full. I remember feeling so excited, so special. I knew I was drunk but I felt in control. When he asked if I wanted to go somewhere more private, I said yes.” Her eyes flash. “And in that moment, I meant it.”

 

No no no no no. 

 

Not Amy.

 

She still won’t look at him.

 

“He took me into his bedroom, which was barely bigger than Holt’s office. It smelled like coconut. I hate that smell,” she adds, wrinkling her nose. “We started kissing, and -- and it was good. At first. But then he got...rough.” 

 

Her voice breaks. Jake can see unshed tears in her eyes and her hands are visibly shaking and fuck, it’s all he can do not to punch a hole in the wall behind their bed. Or Garfield’s face.  _ Fuck _ . What the actual hell did he do to her? And how is this the first time Jake’s hearing anything about this? How did he spend the entire  _ day  _ with this fucking creep?!

 

He really doesn’t want to hear anymore. Amy keeps going.

 

“When he tried to take my shirt off I asked him to stop. He didn’t. He just laughed and kept kissing me, touching me. Said I should just relax. I repeated that I wanted to stop, to go get some fresh air. The room was so small. His response to that was just to push me onto the bed and get on top of me. And then…” Tears spill onto her cheeks as she closes her eyes. Jake’s seen Amy cry a fair amount over the years, but this...this is different. Quieter. Raw.

 

Jake can physically feel his heart getting ripped to shreds. 

 

“Ames, you don’t have to...I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me --”

 

“No.” Her eyes fly open, her voice soft but firm. “I need to say this.”

 

He clears his throat. “Okay.”

 

Amy lets out a shaky sigh before continuing. 

 

“He started grinding on me. I tried to push him off, but he was so heavy. I thought he might crush me. I wanted to yell, to scream and get help. But I thought that would just make it worse. It was so loud out there, no one would hear me anyway. So when he started taking off his belt, I --” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I just let it happen.” 

 

“Oh Amy…” She looks so small. So scared. Jake’s always the first to say his wife’s the toughest person he knows, but this is different. He can’t help it; he takes her hand. Thankfully she lets him, returning the gesture with a tight squeeze. 

 

“After -- After he was done he rolled off of me and almost instantly fell asleep. As soon as he was out I got up, grabbed my purse, and ran out of the room. I went straight for the door. No one even noticed me. No one said  _ anything _ when I ran out of the apartment with no shoes on and a rip in my shirt,” she adds, her voice dripping with venom. But then she sighs. “Even if they had, I knew I couldn’t tell them. He was the top of the class, beloved by everyone. And he was white. I was a latina girl who had too much to drink at a party. My instructors couldn’t remember my name. So I didn’t report it. I went back to the academy on Monday and acted like nothing happened. Every day he’d smile at me and act like we had this cute inside joke that only we knew. We only had three weeks left, but it was the worst three weeks of my life. I was surrounded by him and people who loved him. Only I knew who he really was. And he thought it was  _ funny _ .”

 

She’s crying again, even harder than before. Her breathing becomes shallower and shallower and Jake quickly realizes she’s hyperventilating. 

 

“Ames. Baby, you gotta breathe. In and out, okay?” He gently reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “In and out.”

 

Amy nods and tries to control her breath as Jake repeats this mantra in between soft encouragement. It’s a reminder to himself as well. All he wants to do is scream and cry and destroy the man who did this to her. But he can’t. Not right now. Right now he has to stay calm, not fall apart. So he breathes with her. In and out. 

 

Amy wipes her eyes and sniffs before finally turning her head and looking at Jake.

 

“I’m sorry for unloading this all on you. I’ve mostly worked through it, and like 95% of the time I’m fine. But I just knew after today I needed to tell you. And I’m sorry for being so awful to you.”

 

A new wave of tears pours out of her and there is a heart-shaped hole in the middle of Jake’s chest where his heart used to be. How could she have gone through something like this and have kept it to herself? He had no idea.  _ Fucking shit. _ And now she’s apologizing to  _ him _ ?!

 

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks, looking Amy directly in the eye. “None of this,  _ none  _ of this is your fault. You hear me?” 

 

Amy rolls her eyes. Even through tears, she’s still so consistent. 

 

“But you were being sweet and kind and I got so mean and then I dropped this bomb on you. You didn’t deserve that! And you definitely don’t need to be tied down by my stupid sob story and --” 

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jake squeezes her hand before reaching out and inviting her into his arms. “Come here. If you want to,” he adds. 

 

Amy sighs before rolling over and scooting into him, holding his arm close to her stomach. Jake plants a gentle kiss in her hair. 

 

“I love you so much. And I --” His voice breaks. “I am so  _ sorry _ that happened to you. I’m so, so sorry. But don’t you dare think for one second that you are bothering me or tying me down or whatever. You are my wife. I want to be there for you. I want to help you, however I can. You are not a burden, Amy. This is just another one of our crazy days. And I’m here for all of them. Okay?”

 

Amy nods against his lips.

 

“You believe me?” he asks. 

 

“I believe you.” She pauses. “Do you...believe me?” she asks quietly. Vulnerability seeps through her voice and for the thousandth time that night he feels his heart break.

 

“Oh my god, Ames. Of course I believe you.” He pulls her closer, tighter. Amy grips his arm with both of hers. “I believe you,” he whispers again. 

 

They’re silent for a long time after that. The whole time Jake just holds her while occasionally kissing her hair and shoulders. Kissing any part of her he can reach. It doesn’t feel like much. He wishes there was some magic spell he could cast to take the pain away, but at least it’s something. Something he can do to make her feel safe. 

 

“Today was the first time I’d seen him in twelve years,” she whispers after a while. “I thought I’d never have to see him again. So when I heard his voice in the precinct I just...froze. Just like that night. He didn’t see me, but I saw him. And it was like -- like I was living through it all over again. I didn’t know what to do.”

 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” It’s all he can say. It’s the only thought running through his head.

 

“It’s just, I worked so hard to move past all this. Like I never wanted what he did to define me. I busted my ass at the academy, even after the party. And then I made detective and got transferred here. I freaking made sergeant. Before he did, I might add.”

 

“Yeah you did,” Jake interjects. Amy smirks.

 

“Yeah I did. And I found you. I made friends. Found a mentor. I created a whole life for myself here, you know? I don’t want him ruining this, too.”

 

“I’m recusing myself from that case.” Jake doesn’t even think before the words tumble out of his mouth. But as soon as they do he knows it’s true. There’s no way he can look at that bastard again without punching him. And there’s no way in  _ hell  _ he’s letting him anywhere near Amy. “He’s not stepping foot back in the precinct.”

 

Amy’s body tenses as she whips her head around. “You can’t do that. You can’t tell the Captain. Or Sarge. Or anyone. Please, Jake.” Her eyes are pleading with him. 

 

“I won’t tell them,” he says quickly. He squeezes her hand as an idea pops into his head. “What if -- Now hear me out. But, what if I talk to Holt? You know, go straight to the Commish.” 

 

“Jake…” Her eyes are wide as saucers.

 

“I know. But Ames, Holt would be on your side. He knows you. Even if you don’t want to file an official complaint -- which you totes don’t have to do. You don’t have to do any of this. But, he would still have jurisdiction. He could still take that fucker off the case. And no one would have to know.”

 

He can see the gears in Amy’s head turning, can see her work through the possibilities.

 

“No one would know,” she repeats slowly.

 

“No one.”

 

“You promise?” Her voice is so small. 

 

Jake nods before kissing her jaw. “I promise. I won’t let him hurt you again, or anyone for that matter. You know you can trust me, right?”

 

She smiles and pecks his cheek before curling back into him. “I trust you more than anyone else in the world.”

 

Jake gasps. “Even more than Will Schwartz? Or Noah Webster?!”

 

Amy narrows her eyes before playfully slapping his shoulder. “Yes, you dork. I trust you more than the original editor of the Webster Dictionary. But I am impressed you remembered his name.”

 

“Well duh,” Jake says, rolling his eyes. “We watched that whole documentary on him, remember?”

 

“You fell asleep halfway through,  _ remember _ ?” she teases.

 

“I did not fall asleep! I dozed, which is completely different. I was listening the whole time,” he insists. 

 

“You were snoring!”

 

“I was singing along to the riveting soundtrack!”

 

“Oh come on. I finished by myself and you know it.”

 

“I finished by myself, title of your sex tape!” 

 

Amy laughs, actually laughs for the first time all day and it’s like goddamn music to his ears. God, he missed that. Rather than tell her, though, he simply runs a hand through her hair and proceeds to prove that he actually  _ was  _ listening by listing every random piece of trivia he remembered from the documentary he definitely did not fall asleep to. 

 

It’s not long before Amy’s breathing begins to even out, her body both emotionally and physically drained after the day’s events. When her grip on his arm loosens he plants one final kiss on the nape of her neck. She shifts, and for a moment Jake curses himself for waking her. But then she scoots further into him and he swears he can feel her smile.

 

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

 

“For what?” His voice vibrates against her neck. She squeezes his arm into her chest and good  _ god  _ if it’s not the best feeling in the world. 

 

“For making me feel safe.” 

 

This time it’s Jake who’s smiling.

 

“Anytime, my love.”

 

All of this is far from over. Tomorrow they’ll go to Holt and it will be scary and hard and who knows how everything will unfold. But as his wonderful, strong-as-hell wife once said, as long as you’re with the right people you can handle anything. 

 

Whatever happens, they will it face together.

 

They can handle anything.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have been affected by sexual assault in any way, know that I am with you. You are not alone. Feel free to reach out to me on here or at my tumblr @nevermindthewind.
> 
> Kudos/Comments are always appreciated. I would love your feedback, and I always try to respond! <3


End file.
